


De Nobis Fabula Narratur

by hereruha



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance, Supernatural - Freeform, Yaoi, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5744395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereruha/pseuds/hereruha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love never ends, no matter how much time passes or in which state you are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	De Nobis Fabula Narratur

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a native speaker.
> 
> For the music I mostly listened to [_Young and Beautiful_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o_1aF54DO60)by Lana Del Rey while writing so I suggest this song when you read.

He let his right hand hover over the lit candles, feeling the heat slightly burn his skin as he did so. He didn’t care about it, he knew it couldn’t hurt him that much in the end, nothing possibly could. He already had lost everything, even his life. He had nothing anymore, not even a body. He was invisible, nobody could see him, nobody could hear him, nobody could feel him.

He didn’t get it, he thought that as a ghost he wouldn’t be able to feel anything anymore, nothing physical at least, but it was still there. He could touch anything he wanted, as long as it wasn’t living, or at least not conscious.

The worst though still was that stinging sensation in his chest, his heart tearing apart. Centuries had passed, and yet, the pain was still the same. He couldn’t let go. He knew that if he did, he would find peace, but how could he? His lover had no idea of what had happened to him, _he_ thought he had left _him_ , while it was the complete opposite. He had sacrificed everything for his lover’s life, but who would believe him? Who would believe a _lady of the night_? He surely wasn’t a woman, but people always had a thing for euphemisms while he was cruder about his own situation, he didn’t adorn his job, why would he? People embellished things in public just not to feel bad about what they did, just to sound polite, but behind closed doors… People were two-faced, he was sure of it. Observing humanity for four centuries had confirmed his thoughts. He had had a slight hope in the beginning, he really had hoped that people would get better with time, with new customs. What a fool he had been, it was even worse now.

He still was an idiot, following his lover even after such a long time, a lover that seemed to have moved on. _He_ hadn’t even tried to bring him back, or to summon his soul. _He_ was a necromancer, _he_ could have at least tried, but maybe _he_ just had expected things to turn out this way, thus not even trying to understand what had happened.

He sat on the edge of the bed, next to his lover, well, former lover. He was gazing lovingly at the raven-haired man, his fingers softly brushing through _his_ silky-smooth strands. However, his gaze was rapidly caught by the other figure in the bed. He gritted his teeth as he saw the woman rolling on her side, embracing the other in her sleep. He wished he could have shoved her aside, or at least set some distance between the two of them. He knew he couldn’t harm her, he already had tried with other people.

“How could you let such a leech enter your world?” he whispered, looking away.

He knew what kind of woman she was, he had followed her a couple times already to be sure of it. In fact, the truth didn’t surprise him. _He_ always fell for the wrong people. _He_ had fallen for him after all.

He stood up, noticing the sun slowly rising in the sky. It was his cue to leave, to go back to where his body was kept. He leaned over his former lover and kissed him on the forehead.

“I love you.” he murmured before disappearing into thin air, the only sign of his presence being the lit candles.

✡✡✡

He stared down at his body, lying in an ebony coffin. He could maybe consider himself as lucky, maybe God had pitied him, who knew. Either way, when he had died, he had managed to find someone who could see him, even in his state. The woman had been kind enough to cast a spell on the young man’s corpse, making it impossible for it to decay. He never had seen her afterwards, but he knew she wasn’t normal either. She had told him that the spell would wear off once she would find death, yet, after a few centuries, the spell still was effective, and his body in the same state it had been left back then.

He couldn’t deny that he hoped that one day, _he_ would find his body. He knew that _his_ powers normally wouldn’t make his soul come back in his body, but he knew that _he_ had more than one trick up _his_ sleeve. So maybe one day, his former lover would bring him back to life. Well, that was what he hoped, but at the same time… He didn’t want _him_ to see his body in such a state.

He hadn’t been left in a good condition that night, after all, he had given his life to save the other’s one.

He laid his hand on the corpse’s chest, biting his lower lip. He could feel the broken ribs under his fingers. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he would actually survive resurrection if it ever happened. A tear rolled down his cheek as he looked at his bruised neck, the bruises in shape of fingers. His face had been pretty much spared, if his bruised lips weren’t taken into account.

“I’ll get you healed, one day.” he told himself, lowering the coffin lid.

He glanced one last time at the body before closing the coffin.

✡✡✡

He looked around, quite surprised by the fact that people kept on staring at him as they walked past him. The sun had set so he was out, again, heading to _his_ place.

“Hey! Great outfit!”

He was startled as he felt someone patting his shoulder. He turned around to see who was the person who had just accosted him. It was a tall man with black, short hair and brown irises. He looked down to see how he was dressed, he never had cared as nobody saw him usually. That’s when all colours drained from his face.

“I know it’s only nine, but I don’t think you mind.”

He couldn’t even make himself move or talk. He was dressed the same way he was when he died. He shouldn’t have been surprised, he had died in that outfit, why would have it changed? He gazed down to his torn purple kimono, it was stained with blood, which clearly was visible. It couldn’t be mistaken for anything else, but from what he could see, everybody seemed to be dressed in weird ways tonight. He also noticed blood on his bare right thigh. A shaky sigh escaped his lips as it hit him, he must have looked the exact same way as his corpse. He was certain he had the bruises on his neck, he had some on his ankles after all.

“Why so silent? You’re a prostitute, right?”

His head shot up as he heard the other. Did he still look that way in people’s eyes? Even if the period of time had changed?

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s your job.” the man said, grabbing him by the wrist to drag him to a less busy street.

“Let me go!” he yelled, struggling to release himself from the other’s grasp.

“Sweetie, you’re dressed as a woman, you’re clearly asking for it.”

He continued to yell, yanking on his wrist, though it only made it hurt more. That man was stronger than him, and it didn’t surprise him. He never had a strong body, clients didn’t like that back then so he never worked out.

He didn’t understand it, how could people see him? Was there something special about this night? It had never happened earlier, no matter in which city he had been.

“Hey! Let her go!”

His eyes widened as he heard _his_ voice echoing in the alley. He felt fingers around his free wrist and he was yanked away from the other, soon finding himself surrounded by familiar, protective, strong arms.

“You should have said you already had a client.” muttered the other, rolling his eyes before leaving.

He sighed heavily before getting away from _him_. He couldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t let _him_ see him in such a state. He hid his face with his brown strands, not wanting _him_ to recognise him now.

“Girls shouldn’t walk alone around here.”

“I’m not a girl.” he scoffed, hiding his mouth with his right hand.

He could feel _his_ surprise. It was as if they never had met, or maybe exactly how they had met actually. He remembered the way it had happened, it was quite similar to this, though at the time, _he_ really was a client. Of course, _he_ had been taken aback when _he_ had understood that _he_ actually had asked for a man and not a woman, but it wasn’t that bad in the end, was it?

“Wait, are you hurt? You’re bleeding!”

He frowned, wondering about what _he_ could possibly talk about. Bleeding? He wasn’t bleeding anymore. That was what he thought until he felt something warm flowing down the same thigh he already had blood on before. He looked down and stared at the blood that was trickling down his smooth, pale skin.

Suddenly he found himself coughing blood, crouching down, his arms hugging his chest. His throat was sore, no sound coming out of it as he tried to talk. He could see _him_ rushing to his side, but he couldn’t possibly make himself look at _him_ in the eyes. He could feel that his magic was back, maybe just for an instant, but it was enough for him to cast a spell in order to go back to his ‘place’, where his body was. He knew that something was wrong, and he had to discover what. He coughed, an apologetic smile slightly stretching his plump lips before he disappeared.

✡✡✡

“What the hell is going on?” he groaned, opening the coffin.

He gaped at his body. It was surrounded by blood, the sheets in the coffin slightly soaking up the crimson liquid. The corpse was bleeding from everywhere.

“It can’t be…”

He fell on his knees, grabbing his head. He knew what this meant. He was about to disappear, for real this time. The woman who had casted the spell must have died, there was no other possibility. Without his body, he would become no one, he would have no way of reaching _him_. He maybe should have put his pride aside a few minutes earlier, he should maybe have let the other take a good look at him.

A laugh escaped his lips, though it sounded like a desperate cry more than anything else. He tried to hold back his tears, but what was the point? There was no one here, no one would witness him breaking down, no one would witness him disappear from this world.

“Forgive me, Aoi, I made a huge mistake.”

He fell on his side, tears and blood stirring together on the ground. He looked up one last time at the full moon, high in the sky. This night clearly had been something, hadn’t it? _At least I got to see him one last time_ , he thought. He even could have sworn he had seen _him_ before falling into a deep slumber, but that was his mind playing tricks on him. Until the very end he would have been tortured by those feelings he should never have harboured for anyone.

He heard a voice, someone calling for him, before losing consciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> Well... Yeah... I wrote that in like 4 hours during the night, haha. I don't know if I should write a sequel or not. I mean, a few things are a bit shadowy maybe.  
>  _De Nobis Fabula Narratur_ means _About Us is The Story Told_ in Latin, at least that's what Wikipedia says. I've to say it's a quite literal translation, not really nice. I used to study Latin, but I translated things to French so... Yeah, maybe not exactly the same words or what. Whatever. With such a title I could write more about this, that's what I wanted to say.


End file.
